Amish Days: Coming Home: A Hollybrook Amish Romance (Rhoda's Story Book 3)

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Amish Days: Coming Home: A Hollybrook Amish Romance (Rhoda's Story Book 3) Page 2

by Brenda Maxfield


  “Gertie brung me my supper,” Winnie said. She gave a chuckle. “That girl don’t know how to stop talking.”

  Rhoda laughed. “You’re right on that. She wanted me to play with her a few minutes ago.”

  “Did you?”

  “Nee. I ate supper and came out to see you.”

  Winnie smiled, a pleased look on her face.

  “How was your day?”

  Winnie shrugged. “Can’t get out of the bed much.”

  “You will. In fact, you need to. I’m thinking to pick up a walker tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want no walker. The Lord Gott gave me two legs, and if they don’t work right, I ain’t the one to argue with Him.”

  Rhoda inhaled sharply. “Mamm, that isn’t it at all. You had surgery. You’re healing. Your hip is good as new now. You just have to work up to using it.”

  “If it were as good as new, I could walk around right now.”

  Rhoda gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Winnie’s forehead and tucked it under her kapp. “It’s going to be fine. You just wait and see.”

  A tear rolled down Winnie’s face. Rhoda bent over her. “What is it? Are you hurting?”

  Winnie shook her head. She clasped the top of the quilt, pulling it up tightly against her chin. “I want to go home,” she said, her voice small.

  Rhoda’s breath caught. “I know. I know you do.”

  “Take me home, Rhoda. You promised.”

  Rhoda wanted to cry. Her mother was right. She had promised to never let Winnie be taken from her home, and now she had let her mother down. If only Winnie wouldn’t have fallen, they would both still be at home. Where they belonged. Instead, there they were at Bart’s. And not even really Bart’s. It was Evelyn’s family’s farm.

  “I’m sorry, Mamm,” Rhoda whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  Winnie turned her face away and closed her eyes, her tears still wet on her cheek. Rhoda stayed a moment longer, looking at her mother, feeling like a horrible daughter. She sighed. It was just as well that she didn’t have a family of her own. She couldn’t even properly manage an old woman.

  Her shoulders drooped, shrinking down inside her dress. She picked up one of the lanterns and headed to her own bedroom. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. Maybe, things would be better in the morning. Maybe when she went to Donna’s, her sister would be up and functioning.

  Miracles still happened.

  She stepped into her bedroom and sucked in her breath. In the circle of yellow light, she saw an envelope lying on her bed. She rushed over and snatched it up, looking at the handwriting. Aaron. Suddenly, the day didn’t seem so bad after all. Her hand shaking with anticipation, she set down the lantern and tore open the envelope.

  Dearest Rhoda,

  I hope this finds you well. Thank you for your last letter. By now, your mother should be doing much better. Is she using a walker yet? From what I understand, Englisch doctors like to get their patients on their feet quickly.

  I’m sorry she’s so upset about being at Bart’s house. I have some understanding of what it’s like to leave your home after decades. Until Hollybrook, I’d never lived anywhere but here in Ohio. My mamm left my room just as it was when I was here. It felt strange to walk right back into it as if I’d never left.

  Mamm stood at the door, watching me. Her eyes were so full of hope that it made me feel sick to my stomach.

  How is your sister? Doing any better? Are you still going over there every day and taking care of the kinner and everything else?

  I have finished making a bedside table. It is oak and has two drawers and a shelf. My dat has taken to coming out to the shop and setting himself in a chair like a king presiding over his kingdom. Ha! And I suppose that is exactly what he is. (Don’t worry, I’m not setting him up like any kind of god. We only have one King, our Lord Jesus.) Anyway, Dat makes me so nervous. He watches my every move and makes different grunting sounds.

  A certain grunt for approval (don’t hear those much) and other grunts for disapproval (hear those a lot). Then there is a grunt when he thinks I’m working too slowly and a grunt when he is dying to give me advice.

  I wish I had earplugs.

  Anyway, it’s finished. I will make a matching table now, as it was ordered as a set. Surprisingly, the one I’ve finished doesn’t look too bad.

  Here, Rhoda winced. She stopped reading for a moment and took a breath. If Aaron became too adept at furniture making, he might stay. And oh, how she wanted him back in Hollybrook. He was to court her upon his return.

  She knew his parents wished him to remain there. Would the pressure be too great? Would he stay?”

  I think about you often, and I hope you think of me. Dat is improving every day. I expect he’s ready to do some work here in the shop himself, but he hasn’t yet. I wonder whether it’s because he isn’t up to it or he wants me to do the work and get in more practice.

  We don’t speak of it. In truth, I avoid the topic completely. It’s best that way. I don’t want any arguments. Am I sharing too much, Rhoda? Telling you these things about my family?

  I feel as if I know your family, but you don’t know mine.

  Write soon.

  Yours,

  Aaron

  Rhoda read it again, hearing Aaron’s voice in her mind. She smiled and ran her finger along the lines of his writing, as if she were actually touching him.

  She went to her dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out a stationery tablet and an envelope. She would write him back straightaway. She sat on her bed and scooted back until she was braced against her pillow. She drew her legs up and balanced her tablet on her knees.

  Dear Aaron,

  Thank you for your letter. I’m glad that you finished your first piece of furniture, and that it came out well. I imagine your folks are right happy about that.

  She blew out her breath. She told herself not to borrow trouble. She had enough going on without imagining that he wouldn’t come back.

  I checked on your house the other day. All seems to be in order. No broken pipes, anyway! Ha ha. It’s been cold here, hovering around zero. But I imagine it’s the same in Ohio. You must have a good stove in your dat’s workshop to be able to continue working out there in the winter months.

  I plan to pick up a walker for Mamm tomorrow. There’s this place in the hospital where you can rent things like that. Mostly Bart has been taking her to her rehabilitation. Evelyn does the exercises with her here, so I guess she’s getting it in two places. I feel bad about Evelyn doing it. I should be the one doing the exercises with Mamm, but I’m still spending my days at Donna’s.

  You asked how Donna is. Some better, I think. But she’s not well yet. Old Mae’s herbs and such haven’t made much difference.

  My bees are doing fine. I don’t really see them unless I peek inside. They’re staying put in this weather.

  There will be a few weddings in a week or two. Not that many couples were published this year. A quiet wedding season, my sister Martha says.

  I will close now.

  Rhoda re-read what she’d written. He’d signed his letter “yours”. She really wanted to sign hers, “all my love”, but it was too soon for that. She could scare him off. She supposed that she would simply follow his lead and write “yours” also, and so that’s what she did.

  Chapter Four

  The smell of antiseptic and bleach assaulted Rhoda the minute she walked into the hospital. Instinctively, she put her hand over her nose. She hadn’t remembered it smelling so strongly when she’d been visiting her mother there. She looked down the glistening hallway floor and saw a woman ahead of her busily running a mop over everything. No wonder. Rhoda had never followed the cleaning lady so closely before.

  She saw the hospital supply store and went in. Within fifteen minutes, she’d rented a walker for her mother. She’d gotten one that had a seat on it, too, so that Winnie could turn around and sit down to rest whenever she wanted to. It was ingenious real
ly, and Rhoda hoped her mother would be pleased.

  She folded it flat and carried it out to her pony cart. When she was arranging it in the back, she looked up and saw her brother-in-law Elias drive by in his wagon. He gave her a big smile and waved. She waved back, wondering what business brought him into town. Probably checking on some supplies.

  Right then, she had no time to lose. Travis was probably wondering what was keeping her.

  She got settled in the cart and snapped the reins on Feisty’s back. It was growing colder each day. In one way, she was glad. Winter meant almost no outside work, which lessened everyone’s burden. But it also meant every chore that had to be done outside was uncomfortable. She knew some folks liked winter best, something she would never understand.

  She scrunched her face against the wind, leaning her head down a bit to take the edge off. It didn’t really help much. She was relieved when she pulled into Donna’s farm. She drove up to the barn, and Travis emerged to take her horse.

  “Who’s with the boppli?” she asked.

  Travis broke into a smile. It had been weeks since Rhoda had seen a smile on his face. She brightened. “Does Donna have her?”

  “Donna is up. She came downstairs.” He was beaming. “Downstairs, Rhoda. Imagine.”

  “That’s wonderful gut news!” Rhoda cried. She handed him the reins and hurried toward the house, bursting though the side door and dashing into the front room.

  Donna looked up from the davenport. “Gut morning, Rhoda.”

  Rhoda stopped short. “Donna.”

  “I know.” Donna looked at Abby who was sitting on the floor playing with wooden blocks.

  Rhoda walked to the davenport and sat down. “Have you eaten breakfast? I’m sorry I wasn’t here to fix it. I had to go into town to pick up Mamm’s walker.”

  Donna frowned and shook her head. “Travis and Ruth got breakfast. You’ve done enough.”

  “How are you feeling?” Rhoda realized she was holding her breath.

  “Poorly.”

  Rhoda’s eyes widened. “But you’re up.”

  Donna looked at her. It was strange how a person could age years in only months. The lines around Donna’s eyes and mouth had deepened, taken on a more uneven look, not unlike the cracks in a parched plot of dirt.

  “I’m better,” Donna said with a sigh.

  “That’s the main thing, isn’t it? You’re up. You’re watching Abby.”

  “In a hurry to leave, are you?”

  Rhoda gaped at her sister. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been here for weeks. Can’t wait to be rid of us, can you?”

  “Why would you think that?” Rhoda stood up, and worked to control herself. What had just happened? She hadn’t said anything wrong.

  Anger began to bubble just below the surface. How dare Donna get accusatory with her. How dare she imply a lack of caring or patience. She strode to the window and stood there, looking out on the still yard, biting her lip.

  “I’m right, ain’t I?” Donna asked.

  Rhoda turned slowly around and beheld her sister. In truth, Donna had often annoyed her through the years. She was harsh and critical and always acted as if she knew best. But never, in all those years, had Rhoda felt such swift and intense dislike. She knew that if she opened her mouth at all, she would spew out her anger in words that couldn’t be erased. So instead, she walked over to Abby, picked her up, gave her a hug, and took her to change her diaper.

  “I just changed her if that’s what you’re doing!” Donna snapped.

  Rhoda kept walking. She ignored the supply of diapers downstairs and marched upstairs to the changing table. She knew Abby didn’t need changed. She could tell by patting the child’s bottom. But if she didn’t get out of the same room as Donna, she would explode.

  She plopped the baby onto the table. Abby let out a startled cry.

  “Ach, I’m sorry, little one,” Rhoda crooned. “It isn’t your fault that your mamm is a … well, a pill this morning.”

  There was a noise behind her. Rhoda whirled around to see Donna standing there, glaring at her.

  “A pill, huh?” Donna raised her chin. “I’m a pill?”

  Rhoda turned back to Abby, changing her nearly dry diaper for a clean one. Donna strode into the room.

  “I can take her.”

  Rhoda handed Abby to her, and then dropped her arms to her sides. Now what? She’d been staying at Donna’s all day every day for what seemed like forever. She’d done the cooking, the cleaning, and the laundry. She’d watched the baby, watched the older kinner, and made sure Donna’s husband was well-fed.

  Should she simply leave?

  Every single part of her wanted to. But was Donna ready to handle it all? She doubted it.

  “I’ll go wash up the dishes,” she said, assuming they’d be in a jumble from breakfast.

  Donna didn’t contradict her, so Rhoda fled the room and headed back downstairs. The kitchen was indeed a mess. Rhoda began setting it right, all the while trying to calm herself.

  Donna had been ill. She was probably still ill. Rhoda needed to make concessions for her behavior. Right?

  At least, Travis seemed happier. She was sure the kids were, too. They’d been missing their mamm quite a little. Rhoda could feel satisfaction in a job well done.

  So why did she only feel total irritation? She dried the dishes and stacked them in the cupboards. She got a medium-sized roast out of the freezer compartment of the refrigerator and set it in a glass bowl on the counter to thaw. She grabbed an armful of carrots and potatoes from the pantry. She laid everything out, ready to be prepared for the noon meal. She doubted the roast would be thawed in time. She should have removed it from the freezer yesterday before she’d left.

  Well, she hadn’t.

  She glanced around the kitchen to ensure that everything was in order. And then she went into the washroom, took her cape off its peg, slipped her boots on and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

  She was going home. Donna could deal with the meal and her family that day. Rhoda felt a moment of shame when she shoved the door open and headed for her cart. She hadn’t even told her sister good-bye.

  Feisty was nowhere to be seen. She poked her head in the barn and there the pony was, munching happily on a mouthful of hay. Rhoda grinned.

  “Hey, girl. You ready to take me back to the daadi haus? Shall we go check on Mamm? Give Evelyn a break today?”

  “Rhoda?”

  Rhoda inhaled sharply. She turned to face Travis. “Jah?”

  “You leavin’?” His forehead creased.

  “I am.” Rhoda pulled on Feisty’s harness. “I just need to get the pony hitched, and I’m on my way.”

  “But—” Travis frowned. “You’re leavin’?” he repeated.

  Rhoda walked by him with Feisty. “I set out everything for the noon meal. Donna should be able to handle it.”

  Travis followed her out of the barn. “Really? She’s feeling up to it?”

  “I don’t rightly know,” Rhoda said, avoiding his eyes. She began the process of hitching Feisty up.

  “What did she say?” Travis’s voice was hopeful now. “Ach, I’m pleased. The kinner will be so happy to have their mamm back in the kitchen.”

  Rhoda’s guilt increased by the second. “Jah, they will.” The words nearly stuck in her throat.

  “This is wonderful gut news.” Travis was actually wriggling with anticipation. “Thank you, Rhoda. Thank you so much.”

  Rhoda rested her hand on Feisty’s mane. “Don’t get too worked up,” she muttered, feeling the guilt twist through her stomach.

  “Why not? Donna cookin’ again? Donna takin’ care of her chores? It’s wonderful.”

  “I didn’t tell her I was leaving,” Rhoda blurted.

  Travis went still. “What?”

  “I’m going to help take care of Mamm. Evelyn has done enough.”

  “What do you mean?” Travis’s voice was low. “Donna didn’t say she
’d cook the noon meal?”

  “She’s angry with me…” Rhoda’s voice faded.

  “But why? You’ve been doin’ everything for her—”

  “I have to go, Travis. I’ll check with you later.” Rhoda quickly finished the hitching. She climbed into the cart with a swift movement. She clicked her tongue and Feisty obliged by starting into a clipped walk.

  “Rhoda?” Travis said behind her.

  She turned and gave a stiff wave. “I’ll see you later, Travis.” And she was off.

  Tears burned her eyes and fell down her cold cheeks. She wiped at them impatiently, thoroughly disgusted with herself. She should go back. She should go back and work on the noon meal.

  But she couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t.

  She snapped the reins, and Feisty increased her pace. If only Aaron was home. She could go over and check her hives and see his handsome face. She could watch his eyes crinkle with laughter, and she could admire his smile. She could revel in the warmth of her affection for him. She could marvel that he had come into her life at this late date, when she was already considered an old maid.

  Were Englischers old maids at twenty-six? She somehow doubted it.

  A gust of wind blew against her back. She was already weary of the cold, and the season had barely begun. She looked ahead, where the road forked. She should go to Aaron’s farmhouse and check on it.

  You’re being silly. You just checked. What do you think has changed? she scolded herself.

  She’d go home and after checking on Mamm, she’d write Aaron another letter. At least when she wrote, she was communicating with him.

  When she pulled up to Bart’s barn, she heard him humming inside. She wiped her face again, wanting to erase any evidence of her tears. She slid down from the cart and went into the barn.

  “Rhoda? What are you doin’ back so soon?”

  “Donna’s some better. She’s up. I wanted to give Evelyn a hand with Mamm.”

 

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